


Injustice

by HuntingPeople



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibal Alastor, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Human AU, I would still call Alastor aroace in this, M/M, Serial Killer Alastor, Serial Killers, Some vague-ish sex stuff???, This is what happens when you think with your dick Valentino, This is what happens when you're greedy Alastor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingPeople/pseuds/HuntingPeople
Summary: He wanted a lot of things, so many things. That was just his nature. Always wanting, always so greedy, so unsatisfied, nothing would ever be enough for him.More. More.More.Val gave it to him.
Relationships: Alastor/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73





	Injustice

**Author's Note:**

> All that dark music inspired me to write what I like best, and that's some good old fashioned darkfic uwu
> 
> Heed those fucking tags ya'll

He was beautiful.

Stunning.

Captivating.

Alastor wanted to kill him.

Wanted to watch the blood drain from him slowly, wanted to carve his flesh from bone, wanted to tear out still functioning organs. Alastor just want to ruin him, _improve_ him, and then revel in the mess he'd made.

The man was watching him from across the bar, and he wasn't being subtle about it at all. In fact, he was being _very_ open about his affection. Winking at Alastor, sending him drinks that the radio host refused to drink, flashing him the whitest of grins with just a hint of gold.

Though Alastor had never quite been into people that way, he couldn't deny that the man was what most others would call attractive. 

He was tall, so incredibly _tall_ , it was a wonder he didn't have to bend down to fit inside the building. His skin was as dark as the night outside, with the scruff covering his jaw only a shade or two darker. The dress shirt he wore was a bright red, a blood red, his skinny jeans matched, and Alastor couldn't see his shoes, but would it be presumptuous of him to guess they were red too? 

The most obvious thing about the man was the ridiculous pair of heart shaped sunglasses he wore on his face, golden frames, with a pink tint to the glass.

Once Alastor was done playing games, it only took a small jerk of his head towards the door to have the man following him, clearly tipsy from the way he stumbled.

The man - Valentino, Alastor soon found out - wasn't only tall enough to reach the Heavens, but had a seemingly ungodly strength to match.

But then again, Alastor was practically half his height and thin as a twig, so it made sense that Valentino had no trouble holding him against one wall of the alleyway as they fucked. Well, it was less _fucking_ and more just sloppy grinding, but it was still further than Alastor had let anyone get before, the act always so unappealing to him. 

Valentino was different - so very different - compared to all of the others before him.

Alastor wanted those large hands on him, all over him, picking him up, manhandling him, bruising him. Wanted those lips on his neck, teeth on his skin, in his flesh. He wanted that cock deep inside, deep enough to taste it, wanted it to split him open, rearrange his guts. 

He wanted a lot of things, so many things. That was just his nature. Always wanting, always so greedy, so unsatisfied, nothing would ever be enough for him. 

More. More. _More._

Val gave it to him.

Until they were both a sweating, panting mess.

Until Alastor was sure that the brick wall had worn holes into the back of his shirt from the rubbing.

Until Alastor had almost forgotten about the reason why he'd lured Valentino out of the club. Almost.

Poor, poor Valentino didn't see anything wrong with walking him home, not when Alastor hinted that there was _more_ waiting for him there.

It didn't matter how big Val was then, how strong, there was no fighting back with a knife buried deep in his chest.

Alastor hadn't even waited to get him to the basement, far too excited.

He killed him right there in the living room, the front door not even fully closed. 

The look on Valentino's face was priceless. _Delicious_. Had only excited the radio host more.

He made such a mess. Crimson staining his pristine hardwood floors, his favourite rug, reaching as far as the walls, the ceiling even. He didn't count how many times he stabbed the man, but by the time Alastor's arms grew tired, the shirt Val had been wearing couldn't hold itself together anymore.

Alastor was quick to carve out a chunk of flesh, from an undamaged part of Valentino's body, and throw it in a pan.

The meat was still mostly raw when Alastor took it from the pan again, greedily devoured it in a matter of minutes. He wanted more right then, to devour Valentino until there was nothing left but bone.

Maybe he'd eat those too.

But he forced himself to stop, to savour.

Valentino was one of the most exquisite meals he'd ever had, and having every last bite that night would be such a waste. Such an injustice to an amazing man. He was dragged to the basement, and Alastor spent the rest of the night carefully slicing him up, preparing him for the following months. Nothing would go to waste he'd make sure of that.

He went to sleep with a blissful smile on his face, teeth stained from blood.

It came as a surprise when the police woke him the next morning.

He'd forgotten to shut the front door.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry for the open ending, originally Al was gonna die too so uH


End file.
